


I'd Put You In A Mirror, I Put In Front Of Me

by Madyfans



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Aziraphale and Crowley's Bodyswap (Good Omens), Aziraphale's Bookshop (Good Omens), Bad Jokes, Bodyswap, Couch Sex, Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Making an Effort (Good Omens), Oral Sex, Post-Aziraphale and Crowley's Bodyswap (Good Omens), Post-Canon, Rimming, That couch that they have sex on in every fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:00:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23010601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madyfans/pseuds/Madyfans
Summary: "After Crowley (as Aziraphale) left to check on the bookshop, Aziraphale practiced slouching and slithering around Crowley’s flat hips first. It was surprisingly easy to do in Crowley’s slinky, sinuous body, but moving like that in Crowley’s customary skin tight trousers made the extra bits he was currently packing hard to ignore. Did Crowley feel this sexy all the time? Certainly one must get used to the sensation after a while, he reasoned. Unfortunately, every time he caught a glimpse of himself on a reflective surface as he traipsed around, he found the strange combination of inner sensuality, arousal, and outward longing only increased."Aziraphale, who usually doesn't bother with such things, makes the Effort (TM) while impersonating Crowley. Personal epiphanies and smut ensues.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 227





	I'd Put You In A Mirror, I Put In Front Of Me

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic in the Good Omens fandom, the first fic I've written in years, and only my second fic ever! Eeeep! 
> 
> Thanks to arsenicisforever for the proofreading and encouragement!

The Principality Aziraphale didn’t generally make the Effort. He had on occasion throughout the centuries, mostly when and where public baths were in vogue. He found human genitalia distracting, inconvenient, aesthetically questionable (though he’d never dare to question HER design out loud), and sometimes unpleasantly messy. He also found, however, that the call of a large pool of hot water, filled with happy, relaxed people, drew him to overcome his distaste for anatomical accouterments. The irony that the genitals were often the least pleasant part of the body to submerge in fairly scalding water was not lost on him, but neither was the view of Mount Fuji through rising clouds of steam. 

He had made the Effort a scant few times since the invention of trousers, as well. His tailor had asked if he dressed to the left or the right, and after a confused and flustered few seconds, he manifested something he found humorously sinister*. Luckily, Aziraphale preferred to only change trousers every century or so, so this problem didn’t come up very often. 

Now and then Aziraphale wondered what his demonic counterpart, co-conspirator, and occasional lunch partner got up to down there, but he usually thought better of it before things got too steamy. He felt he indulged in enough Earthly delights as it was, and didn’t want to tempt another tempting. Besides, it really wasn’t any of his business, was it? 

*Aziraphale, being a bibliophile, loves etymology jokes. 

\---

“Alright my dear, I’m going to give it a try. Wish me luck.” Aziraphale took Crowley’s hand and concentrated on transfiguring his corporeal vessel to be as close an approximation of the Crowley in his mind’s eye as he could possibly manage. His life did seem to depend on it, after all. And the very last thing he pinned down in his imagining of Crowley was that, yes, he must manifest what the demon would have colloquially referred to as “junk”, and that it was probably a phallus. 

Crowley’s mouth curled into a smirk as he evaluated his living reflection. “Wow, Angel, you do really know me well after all these centuries. Glad to see you were paying attention. Not a freckle out of place, full marks.”

Aziraphale attempted to give a little spin to show off his handiwork, and ended up slithering around in a much sexier circuit than he’d intended to. Crowley’s smirk broke into a mischievous grin and Aziraphale beamed back. 

“Oh my dear boy, I’m absolutely delighted you approve! Do you really think it will do?” Aziraphale examined his newly noodle- like arms and legs and he asked.

“Not if you keep talking like that. No tickety-boos, no ‘get a wiggle on,’ no ‘oh my giddy aunt -’”

“I have never said that last one! I have no idea where you get these ideas from. But all the same, point taken.” Aziraphale attempted to thrust his hip out into a more convincing slouch. “I’ll just grunt a lot and not make any complete sentences, yeah?” Aziraphale graveled with Crowley’s graveliest intonation.

“Yeah,” Crowley nodded. Aziraphale could see the eye roll behind his glasses. “Right, here we go.”

Crowley took Aziraphale’s uncharacteristically long fingered hand in his own and closed his eyes. He began to shimmer in increasingly beige earth tones. His facial features smeared until his aquiline nose had turned up at the tip, his pouting jut of a mouth became a sweet, pink cupid’s bow, and the rest of his angles all filled out with pleasant, friendly curves. 

“Oh my dear, you flatter me,” Aziraphale rumbled in Crowley’s voice, and it sounded much more intimate than it would have with his usual sing-song cadence. Their eyes met and a pink flush began to rise from under Crowley’s collar as he nervously twitched away to examine his newly stout and sturdy extremities.

“It’s comfortable, I’ll give you that much,” Crowley mused before dramatically throwing himself onto the sofa. “The extra padding is surprisingly helpful.” He sat back up slightly and grimaced, “Although I’m not sure the spine moves as much as I’m used to.”

“I’m sure it doesn’t,” Aziraphale replied primly, as he experimentally wriggled and stalked his way around the sofa. He stopped on his third lap to examine his own features as they relaxed, eyes closed and lips slightly parted, on Crowley’s face. He reflected on the simple fact that after 6000 years, they really did know each other better than any other beings on Earth possibly could. Crowley’s incredibly accurate recreation of his corporation was a physical manifestation of their long and intimate association, and if he was honest with himself, friendship. He felt his heart swell with affection. He usually tamped this feeling down as soon as possible where Crowley was concerned, but it occurred to him that if their crazy plan worked, he wouldn’t have to anymore. 

\--- 

After Crowley (as Aziraphale) left to check on the bookshop, Aziraphale practiced slouching and slithering around Crowley’s flat hips first. It was surprisingly easy to do in Crowley’s slinky, sinuous body, but moving like that in Crowley’s customary skin tight trousers made the extra bits he was currently packing hard to ignore. Did Crowley feel this sexy all the time? Certainly one must get used to the sensation after a while, he reasoned. Unfortunately, every time he caught a glimpse of himself on a reflective surface as he traipsed around, he found the strange combination of inner sensuality, arousal, and outward longing only increased. 

He eventually succumbed to temptation and sauntered up to Crowley’s bedroom mirror. He pulled down his sunglasses slightly, and with heavy eyelids gave himself a come hither stare. He bit his lip. “Like what you see, Angel?” he purred, taking a step forward. “You can do more than just look, if you want to.” Aziraphale raked his eyes over his reflection before he froze, embarrassment crumpling him into a heap on the floor. He hid his face in his hands and shook his head. This was a lot to take in all at once. He resolved that if he survived the next 24 hours, some serious introspection re: agape vs. eros was in order. 

\-----

The walk back to Aziraphale’s shop after their celebratory lunch at the Ritz was as light and fizzy as the champagne they’d been drinking. They conspiratorially bumped shoulders and casually brushed hands the whole way, punctuated by Crowley leaping over railings and swinging around lamp posts.* 

*Parkour was one of his; Singin’ in the Rain was not. 

When they arrived, Crowley snapped his fingers and the door to the bookshop swung open for them. He made a grand “After you,” gesture and bowed. Aziraphale tried extremely hard to not look amused, announced “It’s my Bookshop, you know,” and walked through the threshold with his nose in the air. He barely made it through to the backroom before doubling over in laughter and collapsed on the couch. Crowley followed close on his heels, making a detour for a bottle of wine and a pair of glasses. The moment Aziraphale had arranged himself into a semblance of his normal posture on one half of the couch, Crowley leapt onto the other half and swung his legs up into Aziraphale’s lap. 

“Glass of wine, Angel?” Crowley offered, pouring a generous amount into the two glasses balanced in his left hand, stems threaded through his fingers.

“And that’s my wine!” Aziraphale replied haughtily, and reached for the glass, letting his other hand rest gently on Crowley’s knee, as if this was how they sat all the time. He attempted to remain indignant, but he couldn’t keep a straight face and after a beat they dissolved into laughter again. 

“Okay, okay, so you did the towel bit, and that’s good, but d’you know what I did?” Crowley sloshed his glass in Aziraphale’s direction for emphasis.

“No, my dear, what did you do?” The reply was accompanied by an indulgent smile and a small pat on the knee. 

“I breathed fire at them,” Crowley hissed with his mouth open and swiveled his neck to demonstrate, “like a dragon! They were terrified! Serves ‘em right, not even giving you a sham trial. Big fireball, right at Gabriel’s big dumb face! Always did like dragons, me. St. George was rubbish. Waited until it was a princess before he bothered slaying anything, not too worried about the peasants getting eaten was he? Classist, if you ask me. And I always liked those, you know, hydro, hadron, hydrangeas -- you know, the one with all the heads? Loads of heads! Chop ‘em off and they grow right back. Even more fire that way! Ngk-” 

Somewhere in the middle of Crowley’s dragon reverie, Aziraphale had started looking pensively down at his hand on Crowley’s knee, and the serious expression derailed the demon’s train of thought, such as it was. “Hey angel, everything alright? You’re not upset about me blowing a really cool fire ball at your boss, are you?”

“Oh heavens no, I can’t think of anyone who deserves it more. There are just a few things that inhabiting a facsimile of your corporeal form brought to my attention, and I’m a little distracted. Do go on. Did you get Sandalphon, too? And Uriel, you wouldn’t believe what she called you --” He raised his hand to his mouth, realizing that might be an awkward avenue of discussion. He hadn’t had a chance to do that introspecting he was planning on yet. 

“No, wait. What did it bring to your attention? My, uh,” Crowley sat up slightly and gestured down the length of his body.

Aziraphale flushed and continued to look down at his hand. “Well, um, you see, I wanted to be as accurate as possible, and maybe I should have asked, but it seemed like such an awkward, personal question, so I sort of just assumed about what you, erm, have, and I don’t usually bother myself, but if I was going to be convincing in Hell, you see, and one thing led to another and I was practicing wriggling around like you do, and I just kept thinking of how it might look to other people to see me wriggling around like you do, and then thinking about you wriggling around the way you do, and how it felt to move around that way myself, and your trousers are awfully constricting to that whole area, and -- “

“Angel, angel, slow down. What do you mean ‘what I erm have?’” He adjusted his sunglasses and raised an eyebrow. “Are you talking about my dick?”

“I suppose that rather cuts to the heart of the matter,”

“Wrong body part, but okay. So, you don’t usually…indulge in that sort of thing?”

“Not if I can avoid it,” the angel’s face pinched slightly, “I generally find it to be sort of - inconvenient and a bit messy.”

“Both types? Something in between?” Aziraphale nodded to both. “Fair enough. So you tried it on when you were me, and you didn’t like it. What’s the big deal?”

“That’s the thing that’s distracting me, Crowley. I did sort of, well, like it this time. You must know how you look, my dear, and I liked, well, the idea of looking desirable. And once I started thinking about that, it all got very muddled, and I started wondering how you could stand walking around feeling so, well, sensual all the time, and then I started wondering if I felt desirable because of some inherent thing about your corporeal form, or possibly because I might find you…” 

Aziraphale went a vibrant shade of pink around the ears and worried his hands together on the stem of his wine glass, above where they had been resting on Crowley’s knee. 

“Aziraphale….” Crowley breathed, propping himself up a little more on the couch and removing his sunglasses.

“I’m aware I’ve been a terrible heel all week, but you must know that I’m dreadfully fond of you,” Aziraphale risked a glance at Crowley, briefly met his intent ochre eyes, and immediately had to look back down to forge ahead. “And I had always wished our situation allowed for more, ahem, affection,” he patted Crowley’s knee again, “especially since you saved all my books from that church and those terrible Nazis. But, well, I hope you won’t take offense-”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Crowley drawled, sinking back down on the couch to wriggle himself closer to Aziraphale’s lap. “Demons’re hard to offend.”

“Right, well, what I mean to say is, this all brought to my attention that there might be additional ways in which I’d like to demonstrate my fondness for you that I hadn’t considered before. I don’t want to presume that just because wearing your form is what clued me in that you feel the same way, but if you--”

Crowley swung his legs off of Aziraphale’s lap, and Aziraphale was momentarily petrified that he’d ruined the whole thing. The rest of eternity together, and now it would be awkward for at least a century or two right at the outset. It took him a moment to realize that Crowley had rearranged himself not so that he was further away from the contact of a newly lecherous angel, but so he was kneeling over said angel, one hand bracing on the back of the couch, and the other gently fondling his bowtie. He wore a knowing and mischievous look, amused and delighted that Aziraphale had finally caught up.

He leaned down and brought his nose to gently run across Aziraphale’s cheek, close enough that their lips almost brushed as he whispered, “Presume away, angel.” 

Aziraphale swallowed and took a few heavy breaths, startled at how loud his own breathing seemed in this moment of overwhelming anticipation. He could feel Crowley’s breath ghosting across his lips as the demon teasingly ran the tip of his nose along the bridge of his own, keeping the light contact between their faces, but just barely avoiding bringing their lips together. Crowley ran his hand up Aziraphale’s collar to thread his fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, and swung his leg over so he was straddling Aziraphale’s generous lap. He nuzzled up Aziraphale’s cheekbone and pressed his lips to his temple, then nosed along the shell of his ear and exhaled, “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to be able to do this.”

Aziraphale pressed his face into Crowley’s sinuous neck with a groan of relief, and ran his hands up Crowley’s slim thighs to rest on his infernal hip bones. Crowley slithered down enough that they were nose to nose again, and Aziraphale finally closed the distance between them with a gentle, soft-lipped kiss. He sighed contentedly against Crowley’s mouth and parted his lips slightly, and Crowley replied by shifting to deepen the kiss. 

Aziraphale had always wondered if Crowley’s residual snakiness manifested itself in ways other than his enthralling eyes and slinky gait, and he was tickled to find that it was also present in the form of an extremely flexible tongue. He tried to stifle a giggle, so as to not interrupt what was proceeding better than he had ever imagined, but Crowley pulled back with a bit of a dazed look and a crooked smile across his face. “What’s so funny? This is a very serious business after 6000 years!”

“I thought it was just your eyes and the way you walk, but your tongue…” Aziraphale’s eyes glittered with wonder.

“Don’t forget my feet have got scales, too. I may or may not be wearing shoes,” Crowley waggled his eyebrows before diving back in for more kisses. A moment later a muffled voice came from the crook of Aziraphale’s neck, in between sucking love bites, “Angel, I’m afraid there might be something rather snaky in your trousers, did you forget to change all the way back?”

“Oh for heaven’s sake!” Aziraphale scooped Crowley up by the waist and overbalanced him, so the demon was pinned under him on the sofa. “You really are evil, aren’t you?” 

“You had better smite me then, hadn’t you?”

“I suppose I better had,” Aziraphale resolved, and practically crushed him into the couch with his kisses. 

Crowley very sneakily started undoing all of Aziraphale’s many buttons, clasps, and other pre-zipper clothing fasteners. Aziraphale hardly seemed to notice until Crowley’s deft fingers finally reached his bow tie and tugged it gently open. Crowley reached inside the open shirt and smoothed his hands over strong, round shoulders, easing the shirt, waistcoat, and coat down his arms. He pushed Aziraphale gingerly up, running his hands along his chest and deliciously soft stomach. He stopped just above the waistband, suddenly apprehensive as Aziraphale gave him a sheepish look.

Noticing Crowley’s hesitation, Aziraphale explained, “I suppose I ought to tell you, before we, ah, make love -”

Crowley made the sound of air escaping a balloon.

“You can call it what you like, darling, but I phrased it that way because….”

Crowley tensed slightly beneath him.

“I’m not just fond of you, and I’m not just vexingly attracted to you. If we do this, I want you to know that it’s because I love you.” 

Aziraphale caressed Crowley’s cheek and the tension evaporated. He absolutely beamed down at Crowley, to the point that the demon almost wished he still had his sunglasses on. Did UV protection cover the light from a halo? Crowley managed to push out the words, rather thickly, “Yeah, feel the same way, angel,” without his voice wobbling too much.

“Of course you do, my dear. You’ve done everything to show me how you feel short of shout it from the mountain tops for the past several millennia. I have a lot of catching up to do.”

Crowley brightened. “I know just where to start.” He snapped his fingers and was suddenly down to the boxer briefs and vest that Aziraphale dreamed up for him in Hell. He usually didn’t bother with underthings, but this seemed like the best compromise between having fewer clothes between him and the angel, and not causing the angel to bolt. Aziraphale let out a little gasp and ran delighted fingers down Crowley’s broad, sinuous shoulders. Crowley gave him a lopsided grin, then guided Aziraphale’s plush hips up slightly, so he could push his trousers down past his eminently squeezable bottom. And he squeezed. 

Aziraphale let out a surprised little “Ooooh!” and kicked his trousers and shoes the rest of the way off. The slightly awkward process caused him to collapse fully onto Crowley’s chest. The feeling of skin to skin contact was so overwhelming that Aziraphale started to rub and writhe against Crowley before he’d had a chance to really register that their erections were slotted against each other, trapped between hip bones and thin layers of fabric. When it did hit him he let out a full throated moan, and Crowley felt fervently that the sound put all the little noises of delight Aziraphale made while eating to shame. Crowley arched up and dug his sharp hip points into Aziraphale’s yielding flesh, trying to give him as much friction as he could manage. Aziraphale’s cheeks were pink and flushed, his mouth slack, and his eyebrows were pulled up into a look of agonized pleasure. Crowley snaked one hand down to wrap around Aziraphale’s girth through his pants, and the other hand gently pushed him up and back upright.

Aziraphale’s eyebrows retained their position, but started to clearly indicate a state of perplexed displeasure, rather than the throes of ecstasy. Crowley licked his lips languorously and crooned, “There’s something I’ve been wanting to do, angel. Please let me. It would go awfully far in making all that waiting up to me. And I think I can get you to make that noise again. Just lie back a little bit, yeah?” Aziraphale’s eyes fluttered shut as he leaned back against the other arm of the couch, and Crowley freed the angel’s erection from his pants. Crowley bowed his head down and took him slowly into his mouth, wrapping his tongue around his glans and gently stroking his frenulum. 

“Oh my dear, your tongue really is wicked,” Aziraphale let out between breathy huffs and gasps of pleasure, and then tentatively reached down to card his fingers through Crowley’s hair in encouragement. Crowley covered his teeth with his lips and began bobbing up and down in earnest, taking Aziraphale progressively deeper and deeper into his mouth. Aziraphale started at the increased sensation and his eyes flew open to take in the sight of Crowley’s auburn head in his lap. Sensing he was being watched, Crowley began to really put on a show. He hollowed his cheeks and made obscene sucking noises, looking up into Aziraphale’s wide, blue eyes. All the while his tongue was working like it had a mind of its own, running along the seam on the underside of Aziraphale’s cock, circling the head, teasing his urethra. Aziraphale let out a steady stream of high, keening noises, and couldn’t help but let his hips twitch up a little into the stimulation. He tried his best to keep still and not interfere with Crowley’s mind boggling ministrations, but after an especially excited jolt, Crowley made a noise that reverberated all the way through Aziraphale’s pelvis, relaxed his jaw and soft palate in a not-unsnakelike way, and took Aziraphale to the hilt. He swallowed once around Aziraphale’s cock, and that was all it took to have Aziraphale crying his name and spilling hotly directly down his throat. A few shuddering breaths later, Crowley released him with a wet pop and was immediately pulled up into a sloppy and extremely grateful kiss. 

“6,000 years and I had no idea my corporeal form could feel like that,” Aziraphale said dreamily, running his hands over whatever bits of Crowley’s skin he could reach. When he noticed parts of the demon were still clothed, he snapped his fingers and their remaining underthings disappeared into the ether. 

“I plan on making you feel all kindsa ways, angel,” and Crowley was already kissing back down Aziraphale’s chest with intent.

Aziraphale saw his direction and protested, “Oh but my darling, you haven’t taken your pleasure yet! I must insist -”

“Got a plan, don’t spoil it,” he rumbled through his trail of kisses, which bypassed what Aziraphale though was its intended destination, and continued as Crowley grabbed his thighs and pushed them up against his chest. Crowley bit and licked at his inner thighs, ran his tongue teasingly along his testicles, down his perineum, and then gently began to lap at the tight curl of muscle beneath it. Aziraphale let out a little squeak and gripped the back of the sofa. 

As Crowley continued to lave at his tight hole and work him open with his inhumanly flexible tongue, Aziraphale all but melted into the couch. “This is, ahh, absolutely decadent. I’ve never felt...oh my, ahhh…” he trailed off but continued to moan his general approval. After a time, Crowley sat up and wiped his mouth on Aziraphale’s inner thigh, which got the angel’s attention. “Why’d you stop?” he demanded, and then blushed in contrition. 

“I knew you’d be a pillow princess, angel, and I'm very pleased you appreciate my talents,” Crowley grinned and ran his tongue along his upper teeth. “I was wondering if your majesty would mind if I got a few more parts than just my mouth involved. But I can keep at this all night if you’d pref --”

“NO, no,” Aziraphale cut in desperately, “please, more, yes, anything.” 

“You greedy thing,” Crowley hissed, miracling an industrial sized pump bottle of lube over from the sex shop next door and onto the bookshelf behind the couch. He slicked up his hand (and his cock while he was at it) with several generous pumps and held Aziraphale’s heated gaze and as he slid in two fingers. The angel bit his lip and held his breath. After a few gentle drags in and out, Crowley hooked his fingers and caressed Aziraphale’s prostate. This elicited an even fuller throated moan than the one that Crowley had latched onto earlier in the proceedings, and the demon congratulated himself on a job well done. 

After Aziraphale started breathing again Crowley slipped in a third finger, and Aziraphale was overwhelmed by the sensation of being stretched open and filled up. “Please,” the angel writhed and gasped as his muscles spasmed around Crowley’s fingers. “I want you. Inside me, please.”

Crowley let out a shuddering breath as he slid his fingers from the angel. A moment ago he had looked determined and in control, but now the open, overwhelmed, adoring look on his face almost brought Aziraphale to tears. Were Crowley’s eyes always that large and soulful, filled with yearning behind his glasses? Crowley slowly crawled over Aziraphale, bracketed his head with his arms, and leaned down into a tender, luxurious kiss. He propped himself up on one arm and stared with wonder into Aziraphale’s eyes as he reached down to line himself up and push in, his cock sinking centimeter by centimeter into the plush, inviting depths. 

They stayed like that for a long while, gazing and breathing and letting the intimacy of that breached space wash over them. Then Crowley, always one to lead with his hips, experimentally rolled forward and back, just a tiny bit. Aziraphale’s jaw fell open and he threw his head back, which Crowley took to be an indication he should continue what he was doing. He slid slowly in and out, letting the tension build until Aziraphale wrapped his legs fully around his hips in an effort to drag him in faster and harder. Aziraphale’s moans fell into rhythm with the demon’s thrusts as they became more athletic and enthusiastic, and he could feel a delicious tightening through his whole pelvic floor, full to bursting but desperate for more. 

Crowley’s movements stiffened as he let out a stifled, “Angel, I’m gonna, ngk --”

“Oh please, my darling, yes, yes!” was the rapturous reply. Crowley had the presence of mind to reach down and wrap his hand around the angel’s cock, and in a few short strokes they were spilling together, Crowley letting out a high pitched and choked cry of pleasure that took Aziraphale completely by surprise. Crowley slid out and collapsed on top of his soft, slightly sticky angel, both of them twitching with aftershocks and extremely satisfied.  
“I can’t believe we made it 6,000 years without doing that….” Aziraphale mused once the haze of pleasure had lifted a bit.

“Wasn’t for lack of wanting to, on my part, angel,” Crowley mumbled into Aziraphale’s chest, fingers idly drawing patterns on the angel’s belly. 

“I’m so sorry it took me so long to catch up, my darling,” he whispered as he dropped a kiss into Crowley’s firy hair. “But we couldn’t have done much about it before now anyway, could we?”

“You have impeccable timing. Wish I’d been dense enough to put off pining until I could do something about it, too.” He gave one of Aziraphale’s ribs a tiny poke. 

“Oof! Well, slowness has its advantages,” Aziraphale wrapped his arms more tightly around his demon, “but you must know I always longed to be closer to you, my dear. I just didn’t realize exactly how very close until just recently.” 

“Hadn’t put it together you wanted me all the way inside, huh?” Crowley propped himself up to loom over Aziraphale again and smirked ridiculously.

Aziraphale reached up to tenderly caress his cheek and said, “You are absolutely awful, and I completely adore you.” 

They kissed for a very long time after that, and giggled, and resolved to do the whole thing again very soon, maybe even in a bed.

The End.


End file.
